


TeenFly 04 - Party

by mystictimelord



Series: TeenFly 'verse [4]
Category: Firefly, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:29:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystictimelord/pseuds/mystictimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Finally found some time to post this!</p><p>Anyways, I think I'll really love writing this "episode". I have so many things planned!</p><p>As I was posting before (and I'll probably post it again), I would like to inform you all, that, if you see something/anything that you think shouldn't be there (or if there should, but isn't), or if you have any other ideas, compliments, critiques, ... I'm open for all suggestions, but I may not use them all (basically I'd just like to know what you guys think).</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Shady tavern, Santo

**Author's Note:**

> Finally found some time to post this!
> 
> Anyways, I think I'll really love writing this "episode". I have so many things planned!
> 
> As I was posting before (and I'll probably post it again), I would like to inform you all, that, if you see something/anything that you think shouldn't be there (or if there should, but isn't), or if you have any other ideas, compliments, critiques, ... I'm open for all suggestions, but I may not use them all (basically I'd just like to know what you guys think).
> 
> Enjoy!

It’s dark and smoky in here, about fifteen people in it. Mostly men, since it’s, of course, a tavern. And guess which of our crew members were there?

There was Erica. She was just getting her beer, which, for some reason, the tavern served in wooden bowls. She sipped a bit from it, seemingly enjoying the bitter taste of it.

Allison was there as well. She was sitting at the bar in one of her beautiful outfits, sipping some fancy pink drink, and she could see the whole tavern from her position. She saw Erica getting her beer and walking towards one of the four hologram pool tables.

And, Derek, of course, was at one of those tables, playing hologram pool with Erica and two other men he knew as Wright and Holder. They were in the middle of a conversation when Erica returned with her beer-bowl.

“Didn’t hardly have to convert the ship, even,” Wright said as he was lining up a shot, the cue glowing with a ring of light before the tip. He successfully shot a “… six in the corner. Stronger locks,” he continued, “thicker doors, keep everybody where they’re supposed to be. Don’t even need any rations.”

Just as he was preparing for another shot, the balls on the table flickered out for a moment, reappearing within a second. It resulted in a disgusted groan coming from everyone playing the hologram pool.

“ _Wei!_ (Hey!)” Wright shouted towards the bartender. The said bartender pointed out to a crudely composed sign, saying ‘Management not responsible for ball failure’, in both English and Mandarin.

Wright was now attempting another shot. He failed to sink the ball.

“Flicker turned me off,” he claimed.

It was now Derek’s turn. Walking around the table, examining it like it was prey.

“You made money?” Erica asked Wright.

“Hand over first, m’lady,” he warned. “Border planets need labor; terraforming crews got quite a prodigious death rate, y’know.”

“Side pocket,” Derek announced before he made his cue shot. As expected, it happened. “Labor?” he inquired. “You mean slaves?”

“They weren’t volunteers, that’s for sure,” Wright replied.

“Is that why you didn’t have to lay in more rations?” Derek hypothesized.

“Haven’t heard any complaints.”

A moment later, Wright started laughing out loud with Holder in unison.

“How much money?” Erica inquired, this time using her… feminine charms. “Lots?”

Missing a shot, Derek stepped out and made for a beeline towards Allison. She, in turn, brushed some cigarette ashes off a chair, making a place for Derek to sit.

“There’s a chance you may want to head back to the ship,” Derek said to her as he sat down.

“Oh, I’m all right,” Allison assured him. “It’s entertaining, actually.”

“Yeah?” Derek asked, amusement and disbelief in equal measures. “What’s entertaining?

“The game,” she explained. “I like watching it. As with the other situations, the key seems to be to give Erica a drink and cautiously standing back; because you never know when - not if - is she going to… you know.”

Having set their eyes on Erica now, they saw how she managed to sink one of the few balls remaining on the pool table. Derek made a small smile at that.

“I still think it’d be best if you head back to Camaro,” Derek continued. “There’s a thief in here.”

“A thief?”

“He took this right off ‘em,” Derek announced as he pulled out a wallet from his jacket. It contained a handful of paper money. “They earned it with the sweat of their slave-trading brows.”

“Derek!” she warned.

“Terrible shame,” he continued. “Anyways, they probably won’t notice it ‘til they go to pay for their next dri-”

“ _Wei!_ ” Wright growled in Derek’s general direction.

“Good drinker, that one,” Derek sarcastically commented to Allison as he felt an arm on his shoulder, spinning him around just a moment later.

To be met with Wright’s fist in his face.

Noticing the fight, Holder tried to jump in and assist his friend, but was tackled to the ground by Erica before he could do anything.

Companion instincts kicking in, Allison jumped back against the counter. Focusing on the fight, she saw how Wright tried to kick Derek’s leg from under him. He failed, if Derek slamming his attacker’s head against the counter is anything to go by.

Looking around, Allison saw a melee everywhere. Apparently, other patrons jumped to join in.

A glass shattered near her head. It took all the willpower she possessed to not visibly overreact, but she did start heading towards the doors a little faster.

“Lovely place,” she confessed sarcastically to the bartender as she was passing him. “I’ll tell my friends.”

Half an hour later, cargo bay, Camaro

“Seriously, Derek,” Stiles chided the Alpha, “what is it with you and bar fights? Is it some kind of a _werewolf-thing_ I don’t know about or -”

“They were trafficking and trading slaves for free labor,” Derek defended himself.

“Oh,” Stiles realized. “But, still – don’t you think you’ve kinda … overreacted?”

“Overreacted how?”

“Well, I don’t know, maybe with the whole violence thing? Couldn’t you have just sent an anonymous tip to the Hunters or something? You know they do those.”

“And then what? Wait for them to show up seven days later with Fruity-Oaty Bars? That is, _if_ they decide to follow up the lead. Either way, they would be long gone by then.”

Stiles had to admit it to himself; Derek really had the point there. _But are Hunters really as bad as he thinks they are,_ he pondered. _And if they are, can_ I _trust anyone on the Hunter’s payroll?_

“Don’t know about you guys, but _I_ had a blast,” Erica proclaimed, stopping Stiles’ proverbial train of thought. “The locally-brewed beer, holo-pool, bar fights with pool sticks … It can’t get any better than that.”

“How come you’re not covered in cuts, grime and bruises like Derek here?” Stiles asked.

“Because I’m a werewolf?” she replied. “I healed my wounds as soon as I got out of that tavern. Also, I changed my clothes. If you haven’t noticed.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why Derek still has them.”

“I think he’s got some kind of a pain fetish going on,” Erica offered. “Either that, or maybe he likes to see you fuss over him.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Derek interjected.

“So?” Erica sassed. “Have I said anything wrong so far?”

Before Derek could answer that, a voice sounded through the radio.

“ _Derek_ ,” Scott’s voice inquired, “ _you’ve told me to notify you when we were off Santo. What destination should I fly us to now?”_

Grabbing the closest mic, he replied: “How soon can you get us to Persephone?”

“ _In fifteen hours._ ”

“ _If you would want to exert the ship to get us to Persephone in fifteen hours,_ ” Isaac interjected through the radio, “ _then you would burn us all alive! There’s just no way I could divert_ that _much heat! Into_ anything _!_ ”

“ _I thought you were an expert in mechanics,_ ” Scott tried.

“ _I_ am,” Isaac replied, “ _which is_ why _I’m telling you it can’t be done without baking us all into Rogue shish-kebab._ ”

“Just tell me once you have figured something out that doesn’t include killing us all,” Derek informed the bickering couple, before disconnecting from the radio.

“I’ll be in my quarters if anyone needs me,” Derek announced to nobody in particular as he was walking away from Erica and Stiles.

Once in his quarters, Derek half-heard Scott’s announcement, hearing only _Persephone_ , _short of twenty hours_ and then … nothing, because he fell asleep.

 _I need all the sleep I can get_ , he reasoned.


	2. Bridge, Camaro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been a while (school and all).
> 
> Enjoy!

Scott was enjoying the view of a Persephone sunrise from space, admiring the golden rays of the sun. He had very few of those moments, but he cherished them whenever they presented to him.

“Did it seem to you that we cleared out of Santo in a hurry?” he asked Boyd, who had just walked in.

“We do that a lot, it seems,” he replied. “From what I heard, we might be staying a while on Persephone.”

“How long?”

“Up to a week.”

“Shiny!”

“Yeah?” Boyd wondered. “I thought you’d get land-crazy, staying that long in a port.”

“Prob’ly,” Scott admitted, “but I’ve been sane a long while now. Besides, I could use some change for now.”

Derek had joined them after that, looking with them at the lightshow outside.

“That’s a joyful sight,” he commented.

“Gotta love a sunset,” Scott replied. “Or a sunrise.”

“Starting to get familiar, too,” Boyd confessed. “Like a second home.”

“Persephone isn’t home,” Derek stated firmly, ruining the dreamy mood that was there just moments ago. “Too many people to avoid. Resupply, look for work, move along. We sniff the air, not kiss the dirt.”

“Wasn’t planning on dirt-kissing, Alpha,” Boyd replied.

A small beeping sounded off from the pilot controls.

“We’re closing in,” Scott announced.

“Don’t you think the planet is coming in a little too fast?” Boyd asked.

“Just means we’re going down too quick,” Scott explained. “We’ll most likely crash and burn. And die.”

“Let me know if that happens,” Derek replied sarcastically before leaving the cockpit.

Allison’s shuttle, Camaro

Allison was sitting in front of her own Cortex screen that was hanging on the wall. When turned off, it functioned as a makeshift mirror. But now, the screen was lit, and it showed her requests from Persephone; 10 men and 2 women, making 12 in total. She touched three pictures, making them disappear and leaving her with 9 requests in total.

Looking at the remaining requests, she touched one of the pictures, expanding it, and in turn, filling the whole screen with an image of a pale, young, yet hopeful man. The message started playing.

“ _I understand your time on our planet is limited_ ,” he started, nervousness evident on his face and in his voice, “ _and if you’ve selected my proposal to hear, then the honor that you do to me flatters my – my honor… And I hop-_ ”

Allison stopped the message and was about to delete it, but was disturbed by a live image.

“ _Now there’s the smile made of sunlight_ ,” the man said over the link.

“Matt! How wonderful to see you,” she greeted him.

“ _Did you get my message?_ ” he asked. “ _I was extra appealing._ ”

“Yesterday,” she confessed. “I listened to yours first. A flattering invitation. I had no idea I was arriving in time for the social event of the season.”

“ _We only have four or five of those a year, you know. So you’ll accompany me, I ask, heart in my throat? There is a certain offer I’m still waiting to hear about._ ”

A knock on her shuttle door disturbed her for a moment.

“Yes, I imagine there is. I’m delighted to say I’ll be there. Now, I’m sorry, Matt, I have to run.”

“ _I understand. I’ll see you soon,_ bao bei _(sweetheart)._ ”

She broke the connection. Matt’s image froze on the screen.

“Come in.”

Derek entered.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” Allison greeted him kindly.

“Morning,” he corrected her. “We’re downing and, in case Scott doesn’t kill us all, the local time is going to be about 10am.”

“Yes, I saw that.”

Derek looked at the screen behind her, still projecting the last image.

“‘Matt Daehler’” he read. “One of your regulars?”

“I’ve seen him before,” she replied tensely, blanking the screen.

“Well, I never did. Not what I pictured. Young. Must be rich too, to afford your rates.”

“I suppose. He has engaged me for several days.”

“Days? Kid’s gotta have stamina.”

“That he does,” Allison confirmed.

A short silence.

“Is he letting you out at all?” Derek asked.

“We’re attending the ball tomorrow night,” she assured him.

“Just out of curiosity; do all the men there have to pay for their dates, or just the young rich ones with stamina?”

“Most of the women there will not be Companions, if that’s what you’re asking. The other men couldn’t attract one, perhaps.”

“Sound like the finest party I can imagine getting paid to go to,” Derek admitted.

“It’s more conversation and somewhat less petty theft and getting hit with pool cues,” Allison explained, while at the same time, guiding Derek towards the shuttle door. “I don’t think you’d find it up to your … _standard_ outings.”

Once at the door, she added: “I understand if you need to take care of that ‘it’s ten in the morning’ issue.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, taking the hint. “Better do that.” When he stepped through the door, he added: “This is more of an evening look, anyhow,” before disappearing from her sight.

And almost bumping into Stiles.

“Whoah!” they simultaneously exclaimed.

A moment of silence later, Stiles started with the conversation.

“I was just looking for you.”

“What for?” Derek asked.

“About Persephone,” Stiles explained. “I was planning on visiting my dad.”

“Oh.”

Stiles noticed how Derek seemed to be hurt by that piece of information.

“It’s not like I’ll be leaving you forever,” Stiles immediately added. “I was only going to have a chat with him."

“Chat about what?”

“About staying on this ship. For Lydia’s sake.”

“But you won’t tell him about … you know …” Derek asked, pointing at his eyes, which he turned red for a moment.

“Of course I won’t tell him about your criminal activity,” Stiles replied the moment he figured out what Derek was implying. “You’re good people. Mostly.”

“I meant the supernatural stuff,” Derek explained.

“That too,” he added. “But I’m still planning on telling him about Lydia. He deserves to know.”

“And I agree,” Derek admitted. “You should tell him. But can you leave out the supernatural/criminal stuff from it?”

“It’s gonna be a tough one,” Stiles admitted, “but you have my word I won’t tell my dad about either the supernatural or criminal stuff.”

Derek focused to Stiles’ heartbeat when he was saying those words. Not even for a moment did the heartbeat rise or fall. It was steady. Trustworthy. Content.

And as if the writer tried to find his way out of a writer’s block (and had successfully done so – _in his opinion_ ), the whole ship shook, bringing Derek back to the present moment.

“What had just happened?” Stiles asked wondered.

“That would be Scott’s attempt of killing us all,” Derek replied. “Trying to crash-land us on Persephone.”

“And at what local time will we crash down?”

“10am.”

“Good to know. Now, if you excuse me, I’ll go check on Lydia. _Before_ we crash-land.”


	3. Shady shopping district, Persephone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I got you this "lengthier" chapter (it takes up 6 Word pages instead of 4; I still think it could've been done better, tho). Consider it an early Christmas present from me to all of you.
> 
> I wish you all happy holidays and a happy New Year. May your next year be better than the current one, may all your good wishes come true, and may you never give up on the things you love (unless they heavily disappoint you, somehow).

Isaac was carrying supplies along with Boyd, Erica, Scott, Derek and Stiles when he noticed a shop. He saw that it was a high-class dress shop, and it had live models behind the electronic window. The models were walking and posing, showing off their gowns.

Because of the sight in front of him, Isaac stopped short, resulting in Boyd almost crashing into him.

“ _Ooh!_ ” Isaac called out. “Look at the pretties!”

“Should I be looking at the clothes or the girls?” Scott asked.

“The clothes, please. You missed a guy model over there, though,” Isaac replied, pointing him out. He was dressed in a suit, best described as dark and Rhett Butler-y (basically: a jacket, a shirt with a vest and a cravat, and a pair of pants). His build resembled Derek’s, which Stiles has noticed, of course.

“You want that suit?” Scott asked Isaac. “I can buy you that suit. Captain, can I have money for that suit?”

“That _is_ a nice suit,” Stiles commented. “Derek, would you ever wear anything like that?”

“Never,” Derek replied. “If I’m gonna wear a suit, I’d want it to be more … simple. Minimalistic.”

“You should buy it,” Erica offered. “I think you’d look great in it. I’ll chip in.”

“I can hurt you,” Derek replied back casually.

“Only place I’ve ever seen something so nice was Allison’s closet,” Isaac confessed as he set his eyes on other models.

“She kinda needs them,” Boyd explained, “leading her life like that.”

“Well, sure,” Isaac agreed, “but sometimes, customers buy her things. She knows some rich peop-”

“We’d best be movin’,” Derek cut in. “The things I’m carrying are heavy, even for me.”

“I really like the ruffles, though,” Isaac continued with his daydreams, ignoring Derek’s interruption. “Allison gets to wear whatever she want-”

“Be more realistic, Isaac,” Derek cautioned in an angry tone. “Say we bought you that suit. What would you do with it? Flounce around the engine room in it? You’d definitely get it smudged, dirty and torn up at some point; not to mention you’d be looking ridiculous in it. Kinda like a sheep on its hind legs.”

As expected, Isaac got hurt by those words. As also expected, Scott shot Derek with a hard look. As kind of expected, Stiles was gob-smacked, his mouth open, yet speechless. And maybe the following was expected or not (feel free to decide on your own), but Erica was laughing out loud. Apparently, the mental image was hilarious to her.

“What the hell, Derek!?” Stiles exclaimed. “How can you be so rude towards him?”

“Your face is rude,” Erica replied before Derek could answer, continuing with laughter afterwards. Isaac was being dragged away by Scott towards the mule/dolly/truck-thing they own.

“Really, Erica?” Stiles fumed. Looking at Derek, he continued: “That was uncalled for!”

“Your face is uncalled for,” Erica replied, thereby again preventing Derek from answering.

“Shut up!” Stiles and Derek hissed out in unison at Erica, effectively silencing her and surprising the other two.

“Nevermind,” Stiles continued after a moment. “I’ll see you later.”

While Stiles was walking away, Boyd stepped up to Derek and took his burden, effortlessly.

“See you on the ship, Captain,” Boyd replied with a hard look and walked off towards the previously mentioned vehicle (seriously, what do I start calling it?).

Derek started regretting saying that comment.

“ _Tee wuh duh pee-goo_ (Kick me in the bottom).”

“Are they mad or something?” Erica asked.

A series of clicks sounded behind them. Slowly turning around, they found out that those clicks came from the guns.

That were pointed towards them.

“Badger,” Derek grunted.

“Captain Hale,” he replied back. “Heard you were in town; thought we might have a bit of a sit-down.”

“I’d prefer a bit of a ‘piss-off’.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I give you an impression I was asking?”

About fifteen minutes later, Badger’s “lair”

Badger, Derek and Erica were sitting uncomfortably around the cable-spool table. It seemed surreal to Derek, watching Badger pouring tea in Erica’s cup, while she ate from a plate of cookies.

“Seems to me,” Derek started, breaking the silence, “that last time there was a chance for a little palaver, we were all manner of unwelcome...”

“Not bad,” Erica commented after taking a sip of her tea.

“There’s a trick to it,” Badger confessed. “Wood alcohol.”

“Since we’re your favored guests now,” Derek continued, “and being treated to the finest of beverages that can make you blind … So what is it that you need?”

“There’s a local,” Badger explained, “Warrick Harrow. He’s got some property he wants to sell off-planet – to fetch a higher price.”

“Local powers won’t let him sell off-world, I assume?” Derek asked.

“It’s a conundrum. What Harrow needs is a smuggler. And I’m willing to let you in on a cut.”

“Why me? You’ve got access to ships; you could do it yourself.”

“He won’t deal with me directly,” Badger confessed, albeit reluctantly. “An irrational dislike.”

“Whuh ha-und?” Erica asked, her mouth full of those cookies. After swallowing those down, she continued: “He seen your face or something?”

Ignoring Erica, Badger continued: “He’s one-of-those quality gents. Nose in the air like he never _wun gwo pee_ (smelled a fart). He doesn’t find me respectable. You, on the other hand, you’ve got a chance.”

“Last time you backed out of a deal,” Derek recalled. “You left us hanging.”

“Hurt our feelings,” Erica added.

“You recall why that took place?” Derek asked.

“I had a problem with your attitude,” Badger countered, “that’s why. Felt you were … what’s the word?”

“Pretentious?” Erica offered, followed immediately by Derek’s sideways look of disapproval and an Eyebrow MovementTM No11 – the ‘I’ll get you back for that’.

“Exactly,” Badger confirmed. “Thinking you’re better than other people.”

“Just the ones I’m better than,” Derek sassed. Turning serious, he continued: “I’m thinking that the very quality is what you’re placing value on today.”

“I place value on the fact that the stick up your _pee goo_ (bottom) is about as large as the one Harrow’s got,” Badger fired back.

One pregnant silence later, Derek asked: “How are you going to set up a meeting if Harrow won’t deal with you?”

“I know a place he’ll be at,” Badger explained. “A safe place, using those now-tech gun-scans. High-class, too. They wouldn’t let _me_ in, but you might just slip by. ‘Couse you couldn’t buy an invite with a diamond size of a testicle. But I got my hands on a couple.”

Out of the sudden, both Erica and Derek were roaring from laughter, confusing Badger for a moment.

“… of _invites_!” Badger clarified immediately. “You want that meeting or not?”

The laughter finally wore off, and Derek started considering Badger’s offer.

“You want to do business on Persephone,” Badger cautioned, “you do it through me. But if you’re so well off you don’t need it …”

Almost two hours later, engine room, Camaro

When Derek walked in the engine room, he saw Isaac working on the engine while simultaneously having a passionate conversation with Stiles about something.

Which ended the moment they noticed him.

“Isaac. Stiles.” Derek greeted them.

“We’re not talking to you,” Stiles shot back, “not until you apologize to Isaac.”

Taking a deep breath, Derek started: “Isaac, I’m sorry I said whatever it was that hurt you. I … didn’t mean it. You know that, right?”

“It’s okay,” Isaac assured him, “I understand. You wanted to finish with resupplying as soon as possible, and there I was, daydreaming about something … trivial.”

“Your daydreaming is anything but trivial,” Derek confessed. “To be honest, it reminds me of … myself. Before Camaro Valley.”

“Oh,” Stiles and Isaac replied in unison.

Thus making a small moment of awkward silence.

“I think I owe you an apology as well, Stiles,” Derek continued.

“What for?”

“For letting Erica tease you, the way she did. And how I did-”

“I almost forgot about that!” Stiles admitted, not letting Derek finish his sentence. “I mean, how _dare_ she speak to me like that!? What did I ever do to her to deserve it? What di-”

“She treats everyone like that,” Derek answered.

“Yeah, I noticed. But why?”

 “It’s one of her ‘Erica’ things, I guess,” Derek tried to explain.

“I _guess_ I can let that one slide,” Stiles assured. “Do you forgive him, Isaac?”

“I already did.”

“So if we’re done with the apologies,” Derek concluded, “I have something to show you. Both of you.”

They watched as Derek stepped out of the engine room to grab something behind the door.

“No way!” Isaac exclaimed.

It was the suit they saw in that store; the one and only. If people could glow physically, then Isaac would be able to cover the whole room in his light. It would blind anyone in his immediate vicinity.

Talk about energy conservation, though!

“How did you get it?” Stiles asked.

“I got it for a job I was hired for,” Derek explained.

“What kind of a job did Badger give you now?” Isaac asked.

“Wait, Badger?” Stiles asked. “Are you talking about _the_ Badger? The one on Persephone?”

“The one and only,” Isaac replied. “He pays well, but his jobs are tricky and … questionable. At best.”

“Well,” Derek started explaining, “the job I got paid for was to contact a ‘Warrick Harrow’ in Badger’s name and negotiate about a smuggling deal.”

“ _What_ kind of a deal?” Stiles asked. “It’s _the_ Warrick Harrow you’re talking about. He’s just about the greatest snob to ever snob in Persephone’s history. He doesn’t seem like the smuggling type.”

“Badger didn’t tell me,” Derek replied. “Apparently it’s something he’d thought I’d say no to if I found out about it. I just hope it’s not people I have to smuggle.”

“Where did you say you’re going to meet him?” Stiles inquired.

“I didn’t,” Derek confessed. “I was supposed to meet him at this ‘social event of the season’ tonight …”

“How did I ever forget _that_ one?” Stiles exclaimed. “My dad is a regular to such parties. ‘A part of his job’, he always said.”

“That explains why your dad wasn’t home,” Isaac offered.

“Which reminds me,” Stiles continued. “Derek, do you have an extra invite by any chance?”

“Umm, yeah,” Derek uttered, “I do.”

“Then let me go with you.”

Derek could swear he could see time freeze around him.

“Think about it,” Stiles continued. “You need to speak to Harrow, I can easily distract my dad and his coworkers, giving you all the time you need to convince him into a deal.”

“But what are you going to wear?” Isaac asked.

“I bet I can find something if Derek can drop me by my place,” Stiles assured. “That is, if you agree to take me with you on your mission, Derek.”

_A distraction could be useful_ , a logical part of Derek’s mind supplied. _You could easily carry on with your mission, while Stiles distracts his father and coworkers_.

“Sure.”

“Really!?” Stiles asked, not quite believing he convinced Derek.

“Yes, really,” Derek replied, “but we better get moving. Now.”

Stiles followed Derek out of the engine room.

“Oh, and Isaac?” Derek asked, stopping in his tracks and turning back to face him. “I promise you, after I’m done with this mission, I’ll get this suit fitted for your size.”

“I’d like that,” Isaac admitted. “Good luck, you two!” Isaac shouted after them.


End file.
